Exorbitant property prices and a lost sense of community in cities are changing attitudes about home buying, encouraging housing options that emphasize shared space for healthier, more affordable living.

Paralleling decades of industrialization and urbanization, residential life in Korea has undergone sweeping changes. Most notably, the community culture of the past has virtually disappeared even though only a single wall separates households in today’s high-rise apartment complexes. In fact, neighbors have grown emotionally distant, finding interaction awkward.

In 1950, when the Korean War broke out, Seoul had about 1.5 million residents. In the wake of the conflict, the capital’s population swelled exponentially. A postwar baby boom that started in the mid-1950s overlapped with robust economic growth that d more and more urban jobs. By 1990, Seoul’s population had reached 10 million.

The only solution for accommodating the exploding population was to construct large-scale apartment complexes. But as real estate value climbed in desirable neighborhoods, apartments came to be seen as s of material desire and investment rather than as places to live. They also bred collective individualism, conflict among residents and disconnection. Today, heightened mobility and the consequent breakdown of traditional ties among individuals and families have led to the disintegration of communities.

Distribution of Resources
The current housing style of choice among singles is an officetel, which typically includes a bedroom, kitchen and bathroom in a small space. Occupants have complete privacy and need not interact with their neighbors. But co-housing buildings encourage community interaction and relationships by making housing units less self-contained.

Tongui-dong House accommodates seven people. The private bedroom of each resident is relatively small in order to facilitate a large communal kitchen over 10 pyeong (around 33 square meters) in size where residents can socialize and share food. The bathrooms and laundry room are also communal areas, allowing for larger living spaces.

In his 2015 book “How to Thrive in the Next Economy: Designing Tomorrow’s World Today,” futurologist John Thackara cites Harvard University psychologists in writing that humans are more inclined to cooperate rather than compete for limited resources. He predicts that the sharing economy will become a fixture in our future lives and that use value (a commodity’s usefulness) will come to surpass exchange value (the same commodity’s market price). A communal living environment spares tenants from having to purchase household items such as kitchen appliances, for instance, because furnishings are shared, reducing waste.

Co-living buildings with residential units can naturally feel desolate when residents empty out during the workday. But mixed-use buildings housing both residents and commercial outlets such as a café or a store provide more frequent opportunities for residents to interact.

Junglim Foundation occupies the first floor of Tongui-dong House and uses the space to conduct its forums and meetings. The foundation also receives deliveries for tenants when they are away, and since the lights are always on, tenants can feel like they are being greeted by family when they come home from work at night.

Can co-housing be considered a community? Perhaps not, but that is ultimately a moot point. What shared housing seeks to restore is not community per se but a “sense of community.” In pre-industrial Korea, there was far less mobility, so families, friends and acquaintances tended to stay in their home area. They involved themselves in others’ affairs, often to the point of being considered intrusive by today’s standards. Co-housing aspires to a sense of community that adopts the virtues of traditional living but rejects its negative aspects. This is a “loose community” where members don’t feel lonely or isolated and can help each other out when needed, while also maintaining a certain amount of distance. For example, people living in an apartment building would not be expected to take their sick neighbor to the hospital. But in a loose community, members would ideally spring into action in this sort of situation.

Neighborhood Hub
One other goal of Yongdu-dong House is to be a neighborhood hub. Among the residents is a Korean language teacher for foreign students; these students eat in the shared kitchen and study in the library. Likewise, if parents can’t pick up their children from daycare centers due to work, teachers will leave them in the common area where they can play with other children until their parents come home.